Into The Night
by The Dishwasher
Summary: Not only is Ensign Williams stuck on a ship seventy thousand light years away from home but she's also been plunged into total darkness. As the crew struggles to retain morale, Sarah's taking it all rather hard. To top it all off, the Night has brought back a memory of someone Sarah used to know, and it looks as though he's here to stay...
1. Who is Harry?

_Summary: Not only is Ensign Williams stuck on a ship seventy thousand light years away from home but she's also been plunged into total darkness. As the crew struggles to retain morale, Sarah's taking it all rather hard. To top it all off, the Night has brought back a memory of someone Sarah used to know, and it looks as though he's here to stay..._

_Disclaimer: ST:VGR - not mine; Labyrinth - not mine; Solaris influences - not mine._

**Into The Night**

* * *

For one who has no regard for time or speed or distance, seventy thousand light years is a meaningless concept. For Captain Janeway, seventy thousand light years was something she could not easily dismiss, especially now that she looked out into space and only darkness stared back at her.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Who is Harry?**

The captain of the lonely ship lost in the depths of the galaxy was faced with the fact that they had been sailing through unknown space for some four years, and were only a smidgeon closer to home. Two weeks ago the stars had gone, and she realised just how much she missed them, even if the nebulae and systems were foreign to her. She pondered about the lives of her crew, confined to living in a proverbial tin can just over three hundred metres in length. The wall next to her grumbled and she patted the metal.

"You're not a tin can, Voyager," said the Captain reassuringly, "Didn't think you were quite so touchy."

But then even the glass on the shelves started to shake, and she abandoned her coffee, stumbled out onto the bridge. The vibrations spread through the entire ship. She was about to ask her perplexed officers what was going on, when all became calm, suddenly and unremarkably. The captain held onto the back of her chair.

"Felt just like a tremor, Captain," offered the pilot, "If we had been on Earth."

"Tremors belong to twentieth century horror movies, Mr Paris," Janeway said, and sought another opinion, "Mr Kim?"

"It was probably some kind of rogue shockwave," offered Ensign Kim, who saw no need to be quite so concerned. Commander Tuvok did not agree, and promptly ordered the Ensign to go over the sensor readings, twice.

"Well then," said their captain, who felt that all was now quite under control, "I'll be in my ready room." She remembered her coffee, cooling on the desk all by itself, and left the crew as they were.

Following this minor interruption to an otherwise perfectly normal morning, everyone carried on just as before, and poor Ensign Kim was about to finish his second sweep of the sensor logs, taking care to be extra meticulous for the high Vulcan standards of Commander Tuvok, and First Officer Chakotay was a few minutes away from being relieved of his command shift, when there was an emergency transmission from deck six.

"This is Ensign Williams," it crackled, "Intruder alert in my quarters!"

* * *

It was, at first, the nicest late start to a morning that Sarah Williams had ever had, possibly in her entire life, even accounting for the fact that she was stuck in the blackest part of the Delta quadrant thousands of light years from Earth. Her night shift, on the other hand, was horrible and dark, not a soul awake down on deck fifteen, no time to spend on the holodeck, and she'd gone to bed miserably at oh-four-hundred. Quite unexpectedly she had fallen into a warm dream, where at the Academy graduation ball Harry had finally asked her to dance. Harry Kim, who had eyes for every girl on campus who didn't even know he existed, for every girl, except for the one who only had eyes for him. And there they were, dancing to a twenty-third century NuKlingon number which was then enjoying a brief revival, and he held onto her as they danced, away, swaying, so gently. When her alarm insisted that sleep was over, she could still feel his arms resting at her waist.

"What took you so long, Harry?" she whispered, still half asleep, into the faint dream.

Suddenly, the illusion of arms tightened around her and became quite cold.

"And just who is this Harry?" asked a tired voice, somewhat resentfully.

Sarah yelped, broke free of the arms, leapt out of bed, and within less than a second was pointing a phaser at the covers and speaking into her communicator.

The covers moved.

"Security is on its way," Tuvok's voice reassured.

Phaser unwavering, Sarah took small steps to the bed, found the edge of the sheet with her free hand, and pulled it away.

For a moment she couldn't think of what to do. Or where to look. The phaser wobbled. There was little time, and before she knew it she'd tapped the combadge again.

"Commander, call them off," she said hastily in a voice she hardly recognised as hers, "Please. It's a mistake."

"Ensign?" Tuvok asked, concerned.

"It was just a bad dream," she apologised, "There's really no-one here."

As soon as she shut off the transmission, embarrassed, for now the whole of the bridge knew that she'd called security over some indigestion-induced-dream, she decided to look at the bed again. Just to make sure.

"Oh crud," she said, and looked away.

"A _mistake_? _Just_ a bad dream?" asked her visitor, apparently offended, "_No-one_ here?"

She rubbed her eyes, but he was, quite plainly, still there.

"Don't you wear clothes anymore, Goblin King?"

He wasn't in the least concerned, "Not when I sleep."

Sarah was quite happy that at least her own bedclothes were safely on, and that Tuvok had dismissed the security deployment in time, or this could have been really awkward.

"Who's Harry?" he asked again, betraying a hint of interest. She threw the sheet back at him.

He watched her with amusement and curiosity as she paced around the room and scanned herself, drank some water, pulled at her eyelids to check her eyes in the mirror and recalled what she'd eaten the previous day from the database.

"And you're still here," she said, having completed her self-diagnostic.

"Why so wound up?" he enquired, yawning. "Let's have breakfast."

Why? Well, precisely because…

Because…

Her eyes fell on the clock.

She swore.

"My shift starts in ten minutes."

The Goblin King wasn't leaving her quarters. In fact it looked like he was about to go back to sleep.

Despite the lack of possible options in this situation, Sarah felt as though she were breaking a particularly important protocol by not informing the captain. But what could she say? That there was a Goblin King in her room? Moreover, that he had appeared in the middle of the night, in her bed, with not so much as a hint of decency? Besides, there was no time.

"Look you," she hissed between running out of the sonic shower and throwing instruments into her case, "Don't you dare leave this room. Just stay put! Understood?"

It would be so difficult to have to explain him to a shipful of scientists.

She looked at him, already asleep, one last time before she locked the door with a personal access code and headed for the science lab on the deck above.

* * *

It was only sometime later, while Sarah was knocking back the coffee in the mess hall and trying to avoid the captain who had come there for the very same thing, that in Sarah's quarters Jareth the Goblin King stirred, stretched and slowly woke up.

His first thoughts were that he fancied breakfast and that he, for some unknown reason, was looking for someone by the name of Harry. He frowned. The bed didn't seem quite so large, or so comfortable, as he last remembered.

"This is not my castle," he said grimly.


	2. There's glitter in my replicator

_Summary: Not only is Ensign Williams stuck on a ship seventy thousand light years away from home but she's also been plunged into total darkness. As the crew struggles to retain morale, Sarah's taking it all rather hard. To top it all off, the Night has brought back a memory of someone Sarah used to know, and it looks as though he's here to stay..._

_Disclaimer: ST:VGR - not mine; Labyrinth - not mine; Solaris influences - not mine; Canonic timelines adhered to with some artistic license._

**Into The Night**

* * *

**Chapter 2: There's glitter in my replicator**

In the middle of Jefferies tube seventeen, somewhere between decks eight and nine, Sarah fiddled with a burned-out circuit board fixing an astrometrics overload. Gently, she replaced the damaged components and recalibrated the systems. It was getting very warm, and she glared at the circuit angrily. Sarah detested working in the maze of the narrow tunnels running throughout the ship, up and down, left and right. She hated every minute of being cooped up in small spaces full of turnings and no evident way out. When the circuit board finally blinked back at her she was only too eager to pack up her tools and leave.

Perhaps Sarah had been too enthusiastic in slamming shut the access panel on her way out, for she found herself facing Seven of Nine, Sarah's least favourite person on the ship. The feeling may have been mutual – Sarah found it difficult to talk to Seven and the Borg had little reason to talk to Sarah. Ex-Borg, Sarah consciously corrected herself, still feeling dubious about the 'ex' bit. Seven had joined them some months ago but Sarah had not seen much of her. In their own ways, they kept themselves to themselves. Presently, it appeared that Seven was not at all surprised to see Ensign Williams at the scene of the commotion.

"You have repaired the malfunction?"

"Good as new," Sarah grumbled, "Sorry, I just…don't like working in there."

"Personal preferences are irrelevant," noted Seven, "Your function is to assist with the ship's systems, wherever they may be located."

Sarah wanted more than anything to avoid this lecture and to carry on with the rest of the shift. Moreover, she recalled with a slight panic, there was an unwelcome someone asleep in her quarters, and sooner or later she would have to figure out how to get rid of him.

"However, if your performance is suboptimal in certain conditions," Seven added, in a strained effort to soften the blow, "Perhaps other crewmen can be considered for the task in your place." Sounding unlike herself, she said, "Thank you for repairing the circuit so quickly."

During this brief but odd exchange, Sarah realised that Seven had spoken to her more than in all of their time spent on Voyager put together. _And Voyager is a small ship_, Sarah thought.

"It's the Doctor's social skills training," explained Seven, "I am to thank the crew for their assistance and to attempt to emphasise with them. In his opinion it will help me in my understanding of humanity."

"Right," said Sarah, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, "Well, you're welcome. But I have to go, check up on that faulty holodeck program."

Seven nodded, and, after Sarah had left, started her personnel monitoring program. She placed a high value on crew efficiency and had a long-running suspicion that Ensign Williams spent far longer in the holodeck while on duty than was necessary.

Seven's suspicions were not entirely unjustified. After having corrected the errors in the faulty code Sarah couldn't quite help herself from running her own program. The crew had been out in the Delta quadrant for over four years. When Starfleet was briefly, but surely, in touch with them through an alien relay system, Sarah had not received any news from home. She hadn't been expecting anything, but the emptiness was surprisingly bitter.

"Computer, start program Williams Three", she whispered, alone, surrounded by a blank grid, which became her living room as soon as the command was voiced. There was still a little time before her next task. She picked up a photo album from the shelf, sank into the couch, leafed through the pages of her parents, of herself as a child, the distance between her mother and father growing with every photograph, then a twelve year old Sarah, just before her mother left, her mother with her new boyfriend, her father's new wife with Sarah in front of the new replicator, Sarah not pleased, she was being told to smile for the camera. Her little brother now, alone, with her, with dad and Irene, stripy, scrawny, going on for gangly, and the pictures abruptly stop. He'd be twelve by now, she thought, reluctant to close the album. Other members of the crew had something from their homes in their quarters. Not her – a short mission my ass – she hardly packed enough underwear. This program, which she made from the files on her personal database, was the only thing linking her to home. Who could have suspected that, all these years later, they would still be very far away? And who would have thought, that instead of the chance to see someone dear, her family or her friends, she would wake up next to her own nightmare? Sarah still half-hoped that it was last night's 'special' in the mess hall which induced her visitor, but that hope was at best feeble, and at worst an outright lie. Her thoughts were interrupted: the combadge beeped and holo-time was up. She was needed in engineering.

* * *

"Ensign," said B'Elanna Torres, tapping her fingers on a console, "You're late."

From her history of working with the Chief Engineer, Sarah knew immediately that Torres was in a worse mood than usual.

"We have a problem," Torres said, and pointed to the warp core. At first Sarah thought it appeared to be functioning well. Within acceptable parameters, she said.

"Tell me Ensign," B'Elanna sighed, "Where in the manual does it say that it is acceptable for the core to sparkle?"

"Sparkle?!"

Under Torres's direction Sarah inspected the core and indeed saw a multitude of tiny stochastic flashes of light inside the reactor.

"Huh," she said, "That's not supposed to happen."

"Damn straight," Torres agreed, "It's as though someone's spiked my warp core with glitter, and it's your job to figure out how to get rid of it. This is engineering, not some retro disco party!"

"Uh," Sarah said, trying to keep her voice steady and even-pitched, "Is the glitter causing any malfunctions?"

B'Elanna, though irked by the warp core's new look, had to concede that there had been no effect on the ship's systems _so far_.

"I- I just have to look something up," Sarah said, and before B'Elanna could protest, darted out of engineering, to the turbolifts, and to her quarters in record time. Along the way, she passed several groups of crewmen talking of strange smells, sights and sounds, and quickly realised that her unwelcome guest had not remained as put as she had hoped.

* * *

Discussions of oddities on Voyager were not limited to crewman corridor chats on the lower decks.

"Hey Tom," the Chief Engineer began cautiously as she and her boyfriend finally managed to meet for lunch, "Have you noticed anything odd on the ship today?"

"What, is this some kind of joke?" Tom asked, bemused.

"I could swear I saw glitter in the warp core," she said in a low voice. "Hey, it isn't funny!"

"Good one," he wheezed between fits.

She punched his arm, "And that's not all! I heard a bird."

Tom now stopped laughing, "Are you feeling alright, B'Elanna?"

The commotion caught the attention of Voyager's former Borg crew member, Seven of Nine. Upon hearing the Chief Engineer talk of birds, she moved over to their table,

"I have no intention of disrupting your conversation," she began, "But Lieutenant Torres is correct."

"Seven?"

"I was in Astrometrics," Seven continued, "When I saw a bird in the corner of my ocular implant. It was an owl."

"Right," B'Elanna said, feeling vindicated, "That's what my bird sounded like."

Tom was confused.

"An owl, Ensign Paris," Seven repeated, "Tyto alba, to be precise."

B'Elanna clarified, "You know, too-wit-too-woo."

"Now that you mention it," Neelix cut in from his chef's counter, "I couldn't help but overhear what you were talking about-"

"Neelix!" the Captain called out, storming through the mess hall doors, "What's on the menu? There's glitter in my replicator."

"Perhaps these occurrences were caused by the space anomaly at zero six hundred?" Seven offered by way of explanation.

"Harry and Tuvok have been over the logs and found nothing," Janeway shrugged, "But we have to get to the bottom of this. I don't take glitter in my coffee."

* * *

When Sarah keyed in the code and entered her room she expected to find it empty, but he was already sitting on her desk, eating her apple, wearing her-

"What is that you've got on?!" she exclaimed, unsure whether to laugh or to cry.

"Whatever was lying around. I could take it off -" he smirked as Sarah waved her arms in protest, and went to replicate a more appropriate attire. He'd probably prefer something of a flamboyant nature. Not that she cared in the slightest what he preferred. She could just get him one of those overalls from the brig, and throw him in there.

Jareth impatiently pushed her indecisive hand away from the computer and produced something black and rather ordinary looking.

"You take too long," he huffed, and removed himself from her sight while he changed.

"Um," she said, her back to him, "So what exactly did you do while I was away?"

"Tour of the surroundings," he said.

She rolled her eyes. Couldn't even stay unseen for a few hours. Tour of the whole flipping ship.

"Some of the officers suspect something. You should have been more careful. There was too much glitter-"

"Speaking of being careful, _Sarah_…"

He now faced her, wearing what turned out to be a black bodysuit.

"Why exactly have you invited me to these dismal regions? And I don't just mean your Spartan quarters."

"What?" she spluttered, "I had nothing to do with this! And if you don't mind, pleasantries aside, maybe you'd better go. Goblin Kingdoms can't run themselves, and Goblin Kings shouldn't be in outer space."

It was as though Sarah knew that there was a snag in this plan. Surely, he would have already left by now…

"Ordinarily I'd only be too happy to oblige," Jareth admitted, "But there is a slight problem."

The snag was precisely what she had feared.

"What do you mean," she asked, "Why can't you go back? I wish the Goblin King would leave right now. There, it can't be that hard!"

But he was still there, eyes fixated on her.

"It's not so simple, _love_," he growled, "But I'll leave the working out to you."

Sarah's temper escalated and made its way to her head.

"Why not? Shouldn't you do whatever I say?"

"Should I really?"

Their argument escalated – Sarah was hot on the offensive and Jareth only too happy to retort and raise the stakes – until the door to her room slid open and Tuvok and the Captain were doused in verbal abuse not intended for them at all.

Sarah froze. Jareth composed himself almost immediately. Tuvok observed the scene with mild interest. Janeway, hands on her hips, was less than amused,

"And just what is going on here, Ensign Williams?"


	3. The dream machine

_Summary: Not only is Ensign Williams stuck on a ship seventy thousand light years away from home but she's also been plunged into total darkness. As the crew struggles to retain morale, Sarah's taking it all rather hard. To top it all off, the Night has brought back a memory of someone Sarah used to know, and it looks as though he's here to stay..._

_Disclaimer: ST:VGR - not mine; Labyrinth - not mine; Solaris influences - not mine; Canonic timelines adhered to with some artistic license._

_A/N: This chapter (plot) edited - Jareth doesn't have magic on Voyager. Bam! Things just got interesting!_

**Into The Night**

* * *

**Chapter 3: The dream machine**

There was little that Sarah disliked more than being reprimanded by Tuvok and the captain. She knew it would go on her record and she glared at Jareth, who not only had the audacity to materialise in her quarters, but also to provoke her and get her into trouble. Tuvok calmly reminded her that failure to report an intruder was a direct violation of Starfleet regulation twenty one.

Sarah huffed.

"I'm disappointed in you, Sarah," Janeway sighed, "I thought I knew you better." But before Sarah could voice a feeble defence, the Captain turned her attention toward Jareth.

"And who exactly are you, Mr Jareth? You can't possibly expect us to believe that you are this…character from a fairy tale."

"Some fairy tale," Sarah muttered.

Jareth, held securely by two guards, narrowed his eyes at the captain,

"Really now?"

He intended to slip away from the guards' grasp and in to reappear behind Janeway to prove to her that he _was_ The Goblin King, but he found that nothing happened. He wondered if Sarah noticed. He attempted once more,

"As hard as it may be to believe-"

But he was still held fast, and didn't even manage to complete his self-introduction. Janeway immediately spun around to face him, barely containing her anger,

"It _is_ hard damn to believe!"

Jareth took a step back. The captain was not at all impressed. Tuvok and the guards came to her side as she continued her attack,

"I've seen my share of life forms and time loops and space anomalies, but I have yet to encounter a king of the pixies, or whatever you are! (Goblins, he forcibly interjected, but was ignored: The leprechauns for all I care, the Captain said.) And what do you think you're doing, taking advantage of my Ensign like that?"

"I'm not even taking advantage of her," Jareth corrected, with a whinge of disappointment, "She's the one who -"

"I didn't ask him to come here, I swear," Sarah said, "He just turned up, but he really is the..." and she wondered what she must sound like to Janeway, "...who he says."

"Pixies and leprechauns, where would you get such a preposterous idea -"

"Enough!" Janeway bellowed, hands in the air, "You two have some explaining to do. Tuvok, see that they come to my ready-room in ten minutes, and that they have a coherent story to tell."

The Captain left the room while the Vulcan remained with the transgressors, his arms folded across his chest. His face remained unreadable.

"Ensign," he said, "Your behaviour to date showed no indication of your familiarity with the interesting language you reserved for Mr Jareth."

"Well," she replied, "I only use it on special occasions."

Jareth could not completely hide his smirk. It was turning out to be quite an occasion indeed.

* * *

"Who's that?" Harry Kim asked Seven of Nine as they saw Tuvok march Sarah and an unknown man down the corridor to the turbo-lifts.

"I don't know," Seven replied, eyebrow raised, "But his attire is vulgar and leaves little to the imagination."

Harry hid a smile behind his hand, and disguised it as a gesture of contemplation.

"I heard that he was a Q, banished from the continuum."

"Your speculation is irrelevant," she said, "We have work to do in Astrometrics."

Harry followed her hesitantly. Seven marched on, needing to focus on her duties, to run some logical algorithms. The stranger unnerved her and she didn't want to have anything to do with him.

* * *

Although Janeway was wary of threats to ship security, she was also curious about intelligent life. If this odd character was a little unpleasant, he certainly wasn't unintelligent. From Ensign Williams' reluctant confessions and this self-proclaimed king's contribution, she gathered that they had known each other before, and that whatever his intentions were, taking over the ship was not one of them. Indeed, as far as she understood, he wanted to get home just like they all did. Precisely where his home was remained somewhat of a mystery, but it seemed to be connected to Sarah. And so, even under Tuvok's warning look, Janeway decided that the intruder could stay on the ship, provided he be supervised by the Ensign. Sarah was not amused. Jareth appeared pleased.

"Let me make this one thing very clear," the Captain said to Jareth, by way of warning, "One wrongdoing, and you will be off this ship for good. Then, I don't know how you'll make it home. But it won't be with our help."

She dismissed them with a wave of the hand, and let out a sigh when everyone had filed out of the room. There was something strange about the visitor, and she wondered why talking by to him made her think of her ex-fiancé and of the dogs and of the sunrises over the fields. She couldn't understand why these thoughts were becoming so prominent to her when Earth was still so far away, why they came now and not yesterday, and, reflecting on this, took slightly longer over her coffee than she would have otherwise permitted herself.

* * *

Jareth's assigned quarters were next to Sarah's, and he made a sort of joke, that he considered was a witty yet suggestive euphemism, and that she interpreted as getting on her nerves.

"Look," she said, "Tom asked me to go over the away mission logs. I really don't have time for your games."

"Who's playing, Sarah?" he asked, "Why am I still on this Voyager of yours?" And, though he couldn't bring himself to tell her, where is my magic?

She didn't know. As far as she was concerned he was free to go, and she wouldn't even be too sad if he were to never reappear.

"I've got to do this report," she insisted. He watched her walk away until she disappeared behind the sliding doors.

He remained standing there, and doubtless, would have continued to do so, if at that moment someone hadn't bumped into him,

"Oh, do excuse me," someone croaked, and Jareth was hip to face with Neelix, Voyager's Talaxian chef, ambassador, and invaluable crew member of many talents. To the Goblin King, this alien was strongly reminiscent of his goblin subjects, which put Jareth in a marginally sympathetic predisposition toward him.

"No trouble at all," Jareth affirmed, and proceeded to indulge Neelix's fondness for storytelling which the latter was only too happy to provide. By the time they had meandered to the mess hall their conversation had turned to Ensign Williams.

"She's a sweet girl," Neelix nodded enthusiastically, "Very polite. But she keeps to herself a lot these days."

"Oh really?"

"We used to see far more of each other than we do now," Neelix reminisced, "Now she seems to prefer the holodeck. With this crew being so removed from their home people have a lot to think through. The darkness hasn't done much good either. I feel somewhat similar, you know, Mr King. I doubt I will ever see another Talaxian again, let alone my home world. Of course, it's under Haakonian control, but even so, it's very difficult…"

"What exactly is this holodeck," Jareth asked, seemingly more interested in the Ensign than in the fate of the Talaxian star system.

Neelix searched for a helpful analogy, "Well, it's a room which can contain a computer-projected environment with which you can interact, run programs. It's like living a story!"

"She was always very imaginative," Jareth mused, leaning back, "I would like to see this holodeck of yours. Show it to me."

* * *

The holodeck was occupied by Tom and Harry who were in the midst of a Captain Proton adventure. Tom, an aficionado of twentieth century culture, had written Captain Proton while procrastinating for a Starfleet assignment, and the program had not left his side since.

"Neelix!" Paris exclaimed. With Harry's help, Captain Proton was just about to rescue Contstance Goodheart from the clutches of the Twin Mistresses of Evil, in a scene that was rather gratuitous, even by Tom's standards. They had not been expecting an interruption.

"It's _that_ guy!" Harry hissed, gesturing behind Neelix, "Sarah's intruder!"

Jareth looked at his hand, which had, as the rest of him, turned black-and-white. He turned it this way and that, but the colour did not return.

"Hm," he said, and picked up a ray-gun which had been wrenched from one of the Mistresses of Evil during the struggle.

"Hey," Tom said, indignant at the intruder, "We were in the middle of a chapter. And watch where you point that thing!"

Neelix intervened. He really was a natural diplomat.

"Look, Tom, Harry. This is Mr King. He's, um, Sarah's friend."

Jareth smiled in a way that unnerved Ensign Kim.

"Harry is it?" he asked, but Neelix was already explaining that Mr King here wanted to see the holodeck and, that he, Neelix, was much obliged, and that, well, here they were.

"Well," Tom said, fastening his shirt and plucking the ray-gun out of Jareth's hold, "Here you are. This is my program, as you can see. It's based on sci-fi B-movies from the first half of the twentieth century-"

"Yes, yes, I know," Jarteh said, much to everyone's surprise, "Ray-guns and starmen and earthlings. But tell me about this… machine."

"As I was saying," Tom reprised, irritated, "You come up with a story. You program the story, and run it on the holodeck. These characters," he gestured to Constance and to the Mistresses, "Are computer programs. This situation is part of the plot. Harry and I are acting out two of the character roles. You see?"

"A dream machine," Jareth murmured, and turned to Neelix, "You say Sarah spends a lot of time here. I wonder…just what is her… program?"

Neelix stammered. Harry and Tom shared a look,

"That's none of your business," Harry said, "Or our business, for that matter. Why not ask her yourself."

"Yes, why not ask her yourself?" Sarah said, and they all turned around to face her. She surveyed the scene and sighed,

"Am I glad there are 1930s levels of decency built into these protocols, boys. Miss Goodheart must be chilly."

The party looked sorry for itself. Before Miss Goodheart could agree that she was indeed a little cold, Tom ended the program.

"Give me a break, Williams," he rebutted, "We don't pester _you_ about _your_ special holotime and we don't snivel to Tuvok every time you shirk a night shift. We've all been in this pitch blackness for far too long."

"Well," she said, reddening, "To each their own. But as for you," Sarah narrowed her eyes at the Goblin King, "You're making it very hard for me to stay on the Captain's good side. I have work to do. Please, just…" she bit her lip, and decided to leave them without saying anything else.

Jareth looked at the holodeck controls as he and the others filed out of the empty hall. It was as dark as the space outside.


	4. It will show you your dreams

_Summary: Not only is Ensign Williams stuck on a ship seventy thousand light years away from home but she's also been plunged into total darkness. As the crew struggles to retain morale, Sarah's taking it all rather hard. To top it all off, the Night has brought back a memory of someone Sarah used to know, and it looks as though he's here to stay..._

_Disclaimer: ST:VGR - not mine; Labyrinth - not mine; Solaris influences - not mine; Canonic timelines adhered to with some artistic license._

**Into The Night**

* * *

**Chapter 4: It will show you your dreams**

Her report done, Sarah reflected on her chaotic day. The Goblin King, the Jeffries tubes and the Captain's dress-down were a lot to digest; she usually tried to spread out her calamities over the course of the week. It may as well have been a whole week, she thought as she looked out into the blackness, who knows what time it is, what day it is, or where we are. The computer could be lying to them all, or perhaps Sarah is still stuck in that dream-turns-nightmare where she dances with Harry Kim before it all goes downhill. Perhaps, she thought, I have finally gone mad.

Nonsense, she insisted after briefly entertaining that idea, sort yourself out, Williams. Get a flipping grip.

But she decided to go and see the ship's doctor. Just in case. She noticed that the lights in the corridors were dimmer than before, and that those crewmen she saw en route were quieter than before, and she felt herself turn grey and silent as she walked to sickbay.

"Ah," said the Doctor, "And what brings you here at this hour?"

"What hour would that be?" Sarah asked, and was taken aback at how gruff she sounded.

"A little touchy, are we, Ensign?"

"I suppose you've heard about my intruder," she said.

"Yes, your enigmatic Goblin King. I can't wait to get him down here," the Doctor's eyes gleamed with excitement, "Oh, the scans I could run… But why have you come to see me? Is there a problem?"

He was a little surprised when Sarah told him she feared she was crazy.

"Ensign," the Doctor began, "This region of space could be starting to affect you. Several members of the crew have already been to see me-"

"But Doctor," Sarah protested, "The King of the Goblins, here in the delta quadrant! I struggle to understand how a character from a holonovel I used to play has materialised here, on the ship, now interacting with the crew! How can any of this even be real? It's preposterous!"

The Doctor flinched, and she realised her mistake.

"I didn't mean that holograms aren't real, Doctor. You know I could never mean that, never mean you!"

And although he agreed it was just a slip of the tongue, as Sarah left the sickbay she could tell that his opinion of her had changed, that he shrank away from her as though she might dismiss him as a meaningless bunch of photons at any moment. Ashamed, she wanted to apologise, but he had already turned his back to her, focused on his analyses. Head hung low, Sarah slowly made her way back to her quarters, where more than anything she wanted to throw herself on the bed and forget all about today.

But she passed holodeck 2, unoccupied and beckoning, it would only be a few minutes after all, wouldn't it..? She ran program Williams 3, looked at the photographs again, and then, from a shelf high up on the wall, behind her father's collection of Encyclopaedia Galactica, she pulled out a small red book, and very quietly told the computer to run a new program: Labyrinth Beta.

* * *

In his assigned quarters, Jareth proceeded to familiarize himself with the technological provisions. Neelix had informed him that the computer held extensive databases on culinary specialities of all cultures, and Jareth half hoped it may include his own. He needed a drink.

"Goblin ale," he said cautiously.

"That item is not in the database," said the computer, taking away the chance to revisit familiar memories of evenings in the Goblin Castle, goblet in hand.

"Underground whisky, single malt," he tried again, and added, "Cask strength."

The computer gave him the same reply.

In the end, he settled for standard, human wine, and was dismayed to find that it was synthesized.

What will they think of next? He drank the wine without enjoyment. Why ruin a perfectly good product by extracting all the fun? He could not bear to replicate another, and went as far as to decide he was not so fond of the replicator after all.

He didn't pay that much attention when humans went off into space. He only really paid attention to _her,_ and sometimes she was living and sometimes not. Her lives had spanned histories, and brought her culture to him. At first space exploits were limited to little trips, the moon, Mars, then, further afield. They went to ridiculous lengths, he thought, freezing themselves or putting themselves to sleep on their long journeys. But he didn't notice their progress until the first warp trial was successfully completed. She was alive then too, in the infancy of this Starfleet. But now, in the twenty fourth century, it was not only nearby star systems they had got to, no, this ship has ended up on the other side of the galaxy, and more so, in a region of entirely empty space. Jareth was used to being the centre of his universe, and it was unsettling to find that _her_ universe was much, much bigger, and much darker than he had previously imagined.

My stars were crystals, he thought, I knew them and they would sing to me. Her stars are all science, nuclear fusion. Her stars are giant. What he meant was that he could not control them. And now they had all left him, his stars and hers. He was insignificant.

* * *

Seven of Nine stared vacantly at the Astrometrics screen before her. She could not understand why it was that she wanted to keep away from Voyager's visitor. Seven pressed her hands to her temples to calm the worry that was rising in her throat, but nothing worked. Instead of the delta quadrant star charts she saw another region of space, one she hadn't seen for over twenty years. It was there that she and her parents were assimilated by the Borg.

"Such a pity," the shadows smirked, and she felt she was Annika again, five again, and utterly terrified.

"What would you give in return for your parents?" asked the shadows, closing in, and Seven widened her eyes. Anything! Everything!

"I've brought you a present," the same voice said behind her. She turned around to see the shadow hold a crystal.

"You!" she said, "Who are you?"

"You know very well who I am."

"Get that thing away from me," she said with disdain, "Why should I know who you are? You're an acquaintance of Ensign Williams!"

"Oh but you do know me, Annika. And I speak of dreams – is this not a dream of yours?"

Her dream, a recurring vision of her mother reinforcing the shields, her father anticipating the ionic storm, a dream of prevention and foresight, where, at the end, the Hansens emerge unnoticed by the cube, and continue their research in peace. Her dream of family.

"Stop," she said, "Leave me."

But as he left she stirred and ordered him to wait.

"It's just a gift," he said.

It wasn't possible. She couldn't, shouldn't trust this intruder.

"Leave me alone," Seven snapped, "I'll tell the Ensign what you've told me!"

Pale and light-headed, she steadied herself on the rail. But what if, she thought, what if I could save them?

"Wait," she began, but she was speaking to no-one.

* * *

It turned out Seven was not the only one to have had such an encounter. News travelled fast in the small ship surrounded by darkness. The Goblin King had been busy, it seemed.

"I was sleeping," Neelix was saying to Tuvok, "When he just turned up in my dream. It was about my sisters, you see. He asked me what I'd do to see them again..."

"That bastard," B'Elanna complained to Tom, "Had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to stop my father from leaving me and my mother. The thing is, I was alone in Engineering at the time, the sensors didn't show his presence..."

"He said he could make me captain," Harry said to Sarah, "He asked what I would give in return."

"I'd punch him in return," Sarah said, clenching and unclenching her fists, "With Jareth on the ship, you'd better watch your words, Ensign Kim".

* * *

Jareth opened the doors to find Sarah demand an explanation. But what for?

"Look, I found it in one of the compartments on deck whatsit," he said, "I couldn't bear your synthetic alcohol. It is oxymoronic and, quite frankly, disgusting. But I'll return it once I -"

"Not the Talaxian champagne," Sarah bellowed, and thought that Neelix would be mighty angry when he found out, "The traps! The crystals! The 'it's a present nothing more, tra-la-la' thing!"

"Sarah," Jareth said, trying to sound convincing after consuming a fair share of borrowed champagne, "I have been here, in these quarters, drinking, because there's nothing else for me to do."

"You mean nothing else besides terrifying and upsetting the crew!"

He tightened his lips,

"If I could, I would, little girl," he growled, "But -"

She stepped back,

"You really do have no power! Over me, or even over yourself!"

He didn't answer.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, but it sounded less joyful than she expected.

"Hilarious. So as you see -"

"But if it's not you harassing everyone," Sarah said slowly, both relieved and concerned, "Then who is?"


End file.
